


The Long Road Home

by spaceliquid



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of a dead baby, Mpreg, Spark Sex, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, or at least the beginning of one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceliquid/pseuds/spaceliquid
Summary: There are no therapists on Cybertron, and when old wounds come to haunt Megatron, they don't only affect him.





	The Long Road Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taiyari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taiyari/gifts).



> And extremely belated birthday gift to the lovely and talented Taiyari!  
> Big thanks to [pollution-of-subterranian-waters](http://pollution-of-subterranean-waters.tumblr.com/) for her help with ideas.

 

It all started well. In fact, now that First Aid thought about it, it started too well: Megatron and Optimus signing a truce? Bonding as a guarantee of their intentions to keep peace? Working together to rebuild post-war Cybertron? Anyone would say this was a recipe for disaster.

And yet somehow it worked! The peace lasted, people started to return to Cybertron, set up small businesses, build their homes. Factions were still there, but there were already mixed groups of friends hanging out in re-opened Maccadam's. Trade flourished, new cities got populated, and Optimus and Megatron were loudly banging each other on every free surface.

There were many bots (First Aid included) who'd prefer never to see or know anything about those two's private endeavors, but now First Aid thought that he'd actually take the loud banging and crushed shelves in closets in exchange for the cold silence and arguments that replaced them lately.

Especially since First Aid was the one who had to deal with it.

True, there weren't many psychologists left after the long, devastating war. As far as First Aid knew, none on the Decepticon side, and on the Autobot side only Rung could call himself a certified therapist. First Aid only had a crash course in psychology, so that he could recognize typical disorders like PTSD and offer some help before someone with proper education could show up.

He didn't do counseling. He didn't do _couples_ counseling.

But Rung was somewhere out there, traveling the universe with Rodimus and his band of merry bots. So here First Aid was, stuck between a rock and a hard place – namely, Optimus and Megatron. Because, apparently, he was their sparkling's house doctor, and thus the only kind of psychotherapist whom Megatron kind of trusted. Although Megatron wasn't present right now, because Primus forbid those two come to First Aid together, like all normal mechs. No, instead Optimus crept into his medbay alone, pretending he had another reason to visit.

“So, um.” First Aid tried to force himself to look at his Prime's face and failed miserably. “You are experiencing... difficulties with Megatron.”

The angry rumble of Optimus's engine used to terrify Decepticons on the battlefield.

“'Difficulties'! 'Difficulties' were when he had mood swings during carrying!” Optimus made a long pause, getting himself back under control, and when he continued, his voice was almost calm. “ _That_ was understandable. Now he is being unreasonable, and I would appreciate it, First Aid, if you could talk to him.”

This sounded like a thinly veiled order, so First Aid had to remind himself that Optimus wasn't his commanding officer anymore.

“This is your relationship, Optimus, and your mate. I can talk to Megatron, but I won't be able to guess what you really need – and what you two need. This is something you have to do yourself.”

“But it's not about me!” Optimus's voice rose again. He flailed his arms. “It's about our sparkling too! Megatron doesn't let me near the sparkling. He doesn't let anyone near the sparkling – only you, perhaps, and only because you were the one to help with its delivery. He keeps Ignis in the pouch all the time, doesn't let him crawl around – this is bad for Ignis! He is _hurting our sparkling_!”

First Aid let Optimus finish, watching his commander clench his fists and vent loudly. He... could understand Optimus's rage. He could also understand that Megatron wasn't hurting the sparkling intentionally.

Now if only he could understand what to do about it.

“Optimus,” he started carefully, testing the dangerous waters. “What have you already tried?”

“What I tried? I tried talking to him like a reasonable mech! But he refuses to let me approach him, he shouts and fights me, like we are back at war! What am I supposed to do?!”

“Definitely not what you'd do at war.” First Aid sighed, dubbing his nose bridge. „Optimus... Megatron isn't acting like a warlord. He is acting like a carrier in distress.”

“But why?” Optimus looked helpless, almost like a lost sparkling himself. “Everything was going so well! We are at peace, he welcomed my advances, we even began sharing an apartment! What went wrong?”

“Maybe it's not that something went wrong now,” First Aid said slowly, “But rather something was wrong before you even bonded.”

***

Ignis was scraping his pouch from the inside again. Megatron pressed a hand to the pouch, scanning the room automatically. His visual receptors were on high alert, painting his feed red and sending him detailed analysis of his surroundings. No threats, at least for now: the room was locked, all dangerous objects put away, and a stash of energon was glimmering in the corner. Megatron allowed his chest armor to part, and Ignis immediately stuck his curious face out. His feet continued to scrap against the pouch's interior as he tried to climb out of it.

Megatron suppressed a wave of panic. They were alone; it was safe. He scanned the room (thrice), it was safe. Ignis could take a walk.

The pouch opened wider, and with a squeal the sparkling rolled out of it – right onto Megatron's hand. He smiled softly, watching his baby get back on all fours and look around; Ignis was so tiny... So frail. Perfectly healthy and round and clean – but small and unarmed, with no protective shell of armor protecting him yet, soft and trusting, and so fearless! He wouldn't know what could harm him, he was helpless and so, so vulnerable...

An image flashed before Megatron's optics – a sparkling's tiny body crushed under a fallen piece of rock, left to rust like trash, only a splat of energon underneath it –

His battle systems roared to life, vision blocked by static, and when Megatron came back to his senses, he was pressing Ignis to his chest, covering the squeaking sparkling with the bulk of his arms.

No. No, they were safe. They weren't in the mines anymore, they were in their base, safe, protected. And this was Ignis, not the nameless sparkling from the mine, the one he took in and failed to save.

He was Megatron; he was not commanded by his memories!

Megatron forced himself to put his shaking hands down, letting Ignis crawl to the floor. The sparkling sat upright, appearing slightly dumbfounded, but as soon as he realized he was free, he headed straight to the shiny energon stack. Megatron let him, memories drifting back to his own past. The gleam of energon crystals was the first thing that he associated with joy. Finding energon crystals meant they were going to get bigger rations. He was lucky enough to survive the initial protoform stage; he got his first upgrade from the mine's administration. Back then they needed small mechs to crawl into tiny crevices to check for the richness of ore, so they upgraded a bunch of sparklings – which essentially made them the mine's property.

Fortunately, little Ignis would never need to do it. He would never risk his life for the privilege of not going hungry. And still, ironically, he was attracted by the bright glow of life-giving energon; was it an instinct programmed into all of them?

A click of the door's lock tore Megatron out of his musings. His warning systems blared in panic, and in the next second Megatron was blocking Ignis with his body, cannon aimed at the entrance and humming to life.

Optimus froze in the doorway, hands up.

“Hey,” he said, as Megatron's mind was stupefied by terror, “It's me.”

Megatron didn't react; he pulled Ignis closer, pushing him into the ground to take cover, and sensed how the tiny body was trembling, weak EM field rippling in -

fear

FEAR

_**FEAR** _

“Get out!” Megatron roared, charging his cannon. “Get out!”

“Megatron...”

“He's afraid of you!” He felt Ignis's panic seep into his own field. “He's scared!”

“Because you're scaring him!” Optimus was getting angry, and it didn't help Megatron's condition. “He reacts to what you're feeling. Megatron,” Optimus took a long in-vent, trying to keep his voice calm. “Ignis is my sparkling too. I have a right to see him.”

The words weren't registering; all Megatron could see was his sparkling – the long-lost sparkling he took under his wing in the mine, crushed, broken, the mine chewed him and spat him out...

“He is mine,” he wheezed, acutely aware of the fast beating of Ignis's spark, “He's mine, he won't die, he will live! No one will take him away.”

***

“I'm sorry, Megatron,” First Aid said carefully, “but I cannot upgrade Ignis right now. He is too young; his spark and protometal won't be able to support armor, not to mention weapons.” Not to mention the fact that he would absolutely _not_ install active weaponry on a baby.

“Then he will stay with me.” Megatron gently picked his sparkling up and directed him away from the slab's edge. “I have many enemies. Anyone could harm a helpless sparkling to get to me.”

The worst thing, First Aid couldn't even argue with that. Although he was sure that the real danger came not from the Autobots (like Megatron supposed), but from some of the Decepticons.

“I understand your concern,” First Aid said. “But you can't keep Ignis in the pouch forever. He needs to grow, to explore, to learn to act on his own. I'm sure you want to see him a brave warrior, not a spineless coward.” First Aid personally wouldn't want to see the sparkling grow to be a killer, but this wasn't the time. Especially since his argument worked.

Megatron averted his optics.

“He needs to live to become one,” he muttered finally. Ignis clapped his hands against the table, perfectly healthy and definitely not looking like he was on the brink of death.

“Then may I suggest something?” When Megatron gave him a curt nod, First Aid continued: “Why not let Optimus help?”

“No!” Ignis jolted, and Megatron lowered his voice: “No. The bitlet is afraid of him.”

“Megatron.” First Aid sighed. “Ignis is afraid because Optimus, despite being his sire, is still unfamiliar to him – and because _you_ react to him as a threat. You know well that Optimus won't harm his own sparkling. More than that – Optimus can be his protector too. You cannot possibly protect Ignis alone – you are already exhausting yourself with your vigilance. Optimus could help, and you know better than anyone what a fearsome warrior he is.“

Megatron didn't reply. First Aid continued his check-up in dead silence.

After several kliks of mulling over a certain thought, he finally gathered enough courage.

“You know what could help in your situation?” He waited until Megatron glanced at him. “A spark merge.”

For a moment First Aid thought that Megatron was going to shoot him right there. The only reason he didn't, most likely, was the sparkling in First Aid's arms.

“I'm sorry, _what_?” You could cut metal with that voice.

“A spark merge,” First Aid repeated. “It creates harmonious vibrations between sparks; this way Optimus's spark would become more familiar to Ignis.” He paused, wondering if he should continue. “And it might also ease the panic loops,” he finally added. Megatron's optics narrowed, but it was too late to retreat, so First Aid continued: “You have an overly active carrier coding, which led to a very strong spark link with Ignis. Adding another spark to the equation will decrease the intensity and lessen the stress on Ignis's spark.”

Seconds ticked by, and First Aid still wasn't shot. Megatron remained silent, his fingers twitching.

“It will help Ignis?” He uttered at last.

“It will make him calmer and more independent, yes.”

Megatron didn't reply, just took Ignis from First Aid's hands and left the medbay, leaving the medic to wonder if he made things better or worse.

***

The office slammed open, hitting the wall with a wham.

“Prime!”

Optimus jolted in his seat.

“Yes?” He asked cautiously. Lately talking to Megatron was like walking through a mine field.

But this time Megatron stormed straight to him, jaws clenched and chin drawn forward.

„You,” he barked, pointing a finger at Optimus, “open your chestplates. We are sparkmerging.”

“I'm sorry, what do you think – WE'RE WHAT?”

“We are sparkmerging,” Megatron repeated, vanquishing the faint hope that Optimus misheard him. “Right now.”

“But... why? We haven't sparkmerged even when we bonded!” In fact, Megatron made it clear that there would be no “spiritual nonsense” in their “purely political” union.

Megatron gritted his dental plates even harder, so that Optimus almost heard a crushing sound.

“Because the doctor says it will help Ignis,” he growled. “Ease the stress on his spark. Now open your chestplates before I tear them apart.”

Optimus seriously considered bolting out of the room to find First Aid and ask him what in the pits he was thinking, but something in Megatron's optics stopped him.

„Would it help? Really?” he said, his tone softening. In the end, he did want to have Megatron back – sane and confident, by his side. Optimus even... Optimus missed him.

Megatron clamped his armor, but stood his ground.

“Yes.”

“Then I am ready to do it.” Optimus stepped closer to his mate. “Do you want to move to the berthroom? It would be more comfortable and...”

“No.” Megatron's voice was hoarse. “Now.”

Optimus swallowed another venomous comment and simply sat down on the floor, activating the transformation sequence of his chest plating. Megatron hadn't been letting Optimus near him (and all of this after Optimus got used to regular hot frags with his former enemy), and now he comes and demands a spark merge? His behavior was growing more erratic with every day...

But at least Megatron did it for Ignis. Although this, too, left a bitter aftertaste in Optimus's mouth: Megatron would come to him for the sparkling's sake, not for Optimus himself...

Megatron locked the door, checked the lock three times, and only then approached Optimus. With a loud clang Megatron dropped on the floor next to him. Optimus watched him expectantly as Megatron hissed, concentrating. His chest armor began parting too, although with him the process was much slower. First rays of blue light broke through the moving plates, and Optimus couldn't tear his optics off them anymore.

He had seen Megatron's spark before, but just briefly, in the heat of battle, when he manage to cleave his chest armor or get a good shot. Never like this.

Although this wasn't intimacy either. This was an act of necessity, and Optimus hated it, this utilitarian approach. Somehow Megatron managed to desecrate even such a beautiful act of love as sparkmerging.

Finally Megatron's armor opened enough for his spark to become fully visible. Optimus couldn't help but be mesmerized by the swirls of energy within it, as pure and delicate as any other spark, and his first urge was to touch it – but he suppressed the desire.

“Let's get it over with,” he said instead and brought their chests together.

He expected to catch as least some of Megatron's emotions and thoughts in the merge, but what he did not expect was to be overwhelmed by them. There were no barriers, Megatron didn't – or couldn't – control his own spark and keep Optimus out. Instead it felt like Optimus was sucked into a whirlpool of feelings and images, drowning in them – and what he felt was _panic_.

Fear. Terror. Mistrust. Endless cycle of worry and fear and fierce desire to protect, protect the little flame that burned in the center of this storm — and when Optimus reached with his mind to that litle flame, a new wave of emotions flooded him: love and devotion, so much love he would never expect from Megatron. The tiny flame leaned into his touch, curious and innocent, and for a moment Optimus and Megatron's sparks truly became one, united in their feelings for it.

But there was sadness there, and when Optimus reached further, he saw a flash of an image – dark tunnel, stone ceiling, a tiny greyed form cradled in big hands. Optimus tried to focus to see more, but was pushed from the image by an anguished presence.

_NO! No, will not repeat, will not allow. He will live!_

A current of fear overwhelmed Optimus again, carrying him away from the memory, and in the current Optimus saw new images – glimpses of the arena, of exploding buildings, of dying mechs and mechs devouring unrefined energon shards – and of himself, Optimus suddenly realized, himself armed with a sword and a rifle, attacking.

_I will not attack,_ he send through their merge, sorrowful. _I will never attack our sparkling. He is as safe with me as he is with you, for I_ _**will** _ _attack anyone who dares to harm Ignis_ _._

He felt Megatron hesitate, but this time Optimus didn't push him. He simply opened his mind, letting Megatron in.

***

They woke up from their merge entangled on the floor, chests pressed together and limbs intertwined. For the first couple of kliks neither of them dared to speak.

And then there was a scratching sound, and a plate on Megatron's chest above his spark chamber retracted. A tiny head peeked out, blue optics scanning the room and stopping at the new adult in front of them. Ignis exploded with excited chirps, wiggling and outstretching his stubby arms.

Optimus was torn between a warm fuzzy feeling at the sight of his sparkling and being appalled for exactly the same reason.

“You had our sparkling in your pouch during the merge?!”

“I couldn't leave him alone,” Megatron muttered, looking away. “It was a merge, not a frag. And he's too small to understand a frag anyway.”

Optimus opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it. He didn't feel like arguing right now.

“Can I touch him?” He said softly. And Megatron, still not looking at him, actually answered:

“Yes.”

With a pounding spark, Optimus offered his index finger to Ignis, which the sparkling eagerly grabbed. He continued chirping, almost as if telling a story to him, and Optimus smiled.

“I'm glad to meet you too, little one.” He extended his EM field, wrapping them all in its warm embrace, and then caught Megatron's gaze. “Thank you.” He didn't just mean the permission to touch, but it seemed like Megatron understood.

“First Aid said... First Aid said a merge might help with the carrier coding.”

“But it wasn't just carrier coding, was it?” Optimus sighed. “I'm sorry, Megatron. I was impatient. I didn't know... I wasn't being a good mate.” He paused. “Can you... tell me what happened? With that other sparkling?”

Megatron averted his gaze again.

“It died. It... he wasn't even my sparkling, he was just one of the sparklings born in the mine. I didn't want him to become the mine's property, like it happened to me, so I took him in and used my own savings to pay for his energon and upgrades... So that he could be free. And then he grew up enough to start exploring, and a piece of rock from a cart fell on him.”

Megatron pressed a hand to his pouch, just to feel the pulsing of Ignis's little spark.

“I was on my shift at the time... I wasn't even there.” Megatron shut his optics. “They didn't even... take his body away. I found him like that, crushed under that rock.” When he opened his optics again, they were dim.

Optimus didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' felt too simple, too cliché.

“Megatron,” he finally spoke. “I know my words wouldn't miraculously solve everything, but I just want you to know: I will do all I can so that nothing like this ever happens to Ignis. Or to any sparkling on Cybertron.” He took Megatron's free hand. “I made my promise when signing the peace treaty – but this promise is for you. Do you believe me?”

Megatron grunted, lips drawn in a thin line.

“We shall see,” he said at last.

But he didn't pull his hand away.

 


End file.
